


Fracture

by frozenCinders



Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: A fanmade OFF derivative, Child Death, Fractureverse, Gen, unreality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25673992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenCinders/pseuds/frozenCinders
Summary: The Libero has a mission. He would appreciate it greatly if you were to observe it to the end.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Zone 0

**Author's Note:**

> This work may contain some difficult themes. Any advisories applied to OFF will also be present here.
> 
> It is recommended to view this work in chapter-by-chapter mode.

...

...

...

This is unfortunate. You've arrived at an inopportune time. Yes, you.

Before you stands a man. His name is of no importance. We will call him the Libero. This man has a mission, and you normally would have been called to assist him. However...

This puppet's strings have been cut. He cannot be controlled, but a subject can't truly exist unless witnessed in some manner. Your role will be a passive one. He will appreciate your company.

His face holds at least two eyes, and around his neck is an empty string, tied crudely at the back. The rest of his appearance is also, decidedly, of no importance. Truly, this man is of no consequence whatsoever. The string is another matter.

He will be dropped off at zone 0, where he will seek out the Judge. Please observe him.

* * *

The Libero's mission begins. Before him is little other than calm waves of neon. The platform beneath his feet extends towards a large building. He walks until he sees a shadow grow in front of him, looking up just in time to watch an owl land on top of the comparatively short entrance attached to the tall building behind it. It tilts its head and the Libero unconsciously mimics this action.

"Ah. A physical form," it hoots lowly, naught but a quiet avian purr. "Were you a vision, you would have dissipated into nothing as soon as I began to inspect you. Fleeting. As is typical."

"Are you the Judge?" the Libero asks.

The owl's wings unfold suddenly as its head straightens up and its feathers stand on end. A second passes and it calms itself, idly smoothing its feathers back into place.

"It even speaks. Marvelous. Truly. Have you a name?"

"No."

"Perplexing. Have you a purpose?"

"Yes."

"Elaborate."

"I've misplaced my keys. I need to retrieve them."

The Judge's grooming halts and a beat passes before it lightly ruffles its feathers, the action tinged with annoyance.

"Entirely less grand than I was expecting. You disappoint me. But you are living. Curious. Maybe not so disappointing, by nature of your existence alone," the Judge muses, contradicting itself quite immediately.

"Can you guide me?" the Libero asks, and the Judge takes another pause.

"I can make an attempt. Yes. Why don't we start with the basics of self-defense?"

And just like that, it's battle time.

**Assault**

**Pass**

**Use**

**Guard**

"Hear me. I see your gloves, and your stance. You are evidently familiar with martial arts of some kind. Remarkable. But let it be known that I do not tolerate aggressive behavior."

The assault command is removed. In its place, a command labeled "retaliate" blinks into existence.

"Some forms of martial arts have quite the right idea. Watching, and waiting. Using your opponent's strength against them. Allow me to allow you to demonstrate. First, choose to retaliate."

The Libero selects the action and braces for attack. The Judge swoops down and scrapes with its talons at the arm that automatically comes up to defend the Libero. As if by pure instinct, the moment the Judge makes contact, the Libero averts most of the damage and sends the Judge hurtling back to its rooftop with an arm thrust.

"Excellent. Painful. But well done," the Judge praises. "I will now provide you with a treat."

"... A treat?" the Libero echoes.

"Yes. A cookie. Be warned. It is quite stale. Eat it to humor me. It is good manners."

The Judge produces a cookie from somewhere on the rooftop, and flings it down towards the Libero, who first blocks it with his arm before catching it when it bounces off.

"Might I recommend. Arm guards."

The Libero would refuse, as the sensation is important to him. But at this moment, he is distracted by the difficult to eat cookie. He pretends to feel invigorated by the treat. Indeed, what little damage he had taken when the Judge scratched him seems to fade away.

"Next. Please demonstrate to me what you mean by "Pass"," the Judge says, despite the Libero never having mentioned such a thing. He selects the option, and doing so allows him to access another menu. Under this menu is a single option, for the moment.

Receive - Raise stats for each hit you take until next turn.

The Libero selects it and braces yet again. The Judge sees this and provides the Libero with another light scratch. The nominal adrenaline from such minor damage is amplified, and the Libero feels sharper and more ready to retaliate.

On the Judge's next attack, the Libero deals nearly twice as much damage with his retaliation. The Judge frantically flaps away, and a lone feather floats gently to the xenon below.

"Enough. You are quite prepared. Another cookie. Cease."

The Judge kicks another stale cookie off of the roof, knocking dirt loose as its talons scrape the shingles. The Libero does not notice this, as his attention is on the feather at his feet. The cookie hits the Libero in the head on its side, spinning off into the neon.

"Shameful," the Judge scolds. "No more. You will have to find your own."

The Libero's attention was drawn by the splash but he does no more than watch the rippling neon as the cookie resurfaces and floats atop the gentle waves. Perhaps he laments his neonlogged treat.

"I will show you one more thing. Then you will be on your way. But we will meet again. Come," the Judge commands, entering the larger building and leaving the one it had been sitting atop abandoned. The Libero takes the time to peek inside. The room is dim, but within it, twelve clocks can be counted. Surely, all that ticking would be heard from outside, yes? Alas, not a single one of these clocks is in working order.

The room contains nothing of interest, so the Libero hastily follows the Judge. It is sitting on the floor, grooming its feathers. There are small blocks in the way of the stairs, and in the center of the room, there sits a tiny gear.

"I am about to be very funny," the Judge says.

"... What?"

"Be a dear. And pick up that gear."

"Oh."

The Libero does so, bringing the item to the Judge.

"You may laugh," it tells him. The Libero does no such thing.

"Does this gear move those boxes somehow?" he asks instead.

"The gear is a crucial piece. Go back outside and enter my home. These countless years, I have had twelve. From today, I will have eleven. Choose one. Take it with you."

The Libero steps back outside and enters the room with the broken clocks once more. He stands in the middle of them all, motionless as he makes his decision. Then he is walking towards a grandfather clock and he unhooks a pocket watch from its mantle. As he pulls the gear out and attempts to figure out where it's meant to go in, it disappears from his hand and the watch starts ticking.

"Ah. A fine choice. In fact, the only choice. The others are too large. I was silly, telling you to choose."

The blocks are now missing, and the Judge walks up the stairs, ignoring its wings. When the Libero follows, he finds an immediate hazard. Before him is a plume of flame, completely blocking his path. The geyser spewing it pauses every few seconds, but not for nearly long enough to make a difference.

"As you can see. The way is blocked," the Judge points out.

"How has this building not burned down?"

The Judge raises its wings.

"Ask not."

It rests them again. The Libero watches the geyser carefully, trying his hardest to determine whether the obstacle is truly impassable.

"Ahem. The watch," the Judge hoots impatiently. "Open it. It would be rude of time to advance while you are trying to look at it. Yes?"

The Libero flips the pocket watch open. When he does, the flame stops moving completely, remaining suspended in the helium. He closes it, and the fire's movement resumes. With careful timing, he opens the watch just as the fire stops, successfully bypassing the hazard.

"Good. Yes," the Judge praises, unaffected by the stoppage of time. "You will need this. Only on the field. Never in battle. You mustn't cheat."

He closes the watch.

"Okay."

"Understand me. Even when it is very difficult. You mustn't cheat," it reiterates.

"Yes. I won't use the watch in battle," the Libero promises. The Judge chooses to believe him.

In the next room, the flooring looks quite delicate. This of course poses no problem for the Judge, who soars over to the next set of stairs without an issue. The Libero cautiously pokes at the floor in front of him and a piece of it crumbles off, likely landing in the fire below. He opens the watch and checks the floor again, finding that it feels paper thin but does not collapse when touched. He is both hurried and hesitant as he makes his way to the Judge, carefully manipulating his weight as if tiptoeing will make him less heavy and not just quieter and sillier.

The Judge's head tilts at a perfect right angle as it watches the Libero's antics. Only when he is three steps up the staircase does he close the watch, and then he is openly heaving for breath while the floor he'd walked on finally caves in now that it's been left alone.

"Ah. By the by. You cannot breathe while time has stopped. Be careful about that."

The Judge's warning comes too late to be appreciated. The Libero takes a moment to recover before ascending the staircase. The next floor contains a harmless room with little decoration to speak of, and a door. The Judge circles the room in flight before disappearing through the doorway. When the Libero follows, he finds himself on the roof. There is an extensive ladder against the side of the building leading down, and he assumes the block that was in the way earlier has disappeared.

"This. Give me your attention," the Judge hoots, raising its wings until the Libero looks at it. "This is a save block. But it is special. The red ones, you see, will take you to the foyer. The yellow, I suspect you have no need for. Under these circumstances."

It flies back down to its tinier roof before coming right back up and dropping a pale blue key above the Libero. It first lands on his shoulder and then bounces clumsily into his hand. He unties the string around his neck, slips the key around it, and reties it.

The first key has been recovered.

"I wish you luck. Nay. Demand it. Memorize deeply all that I have taught you this day. Your failure is now my own. Do not allow it."

With one last hoot, the Judge flies off. The Libero flexes his hands and approaches the red block.

The foyer is pitch black except for the entrances to the zones, surrounded by little splashes of color. Soft music is heard playing from nowhere-- a gentle song consisting of four instruments.

First Piano,

then Saxophone,

then Recorder,

and detected just under it all to those who pay attention, Bass.

The piano is loudest by the first door; zone 1.


	2. Zone 1

The piano does not get louder when the Libero enters zone 1. In fact, it abruptly stops as soon as he sets foot on the xenon.

Past the entry point is a town, with a giant archway labeled Sergei. Both inside and out of the buildings are inhabitants.

"Um... that's an... interesting tie," is what the first one has to say to the Libero.

As he progresses, he pauses here and there to see what some of the others would like to tell him.

"I like it here. It's pretty."

"I accidentally took an extra five minutes for my lunch break yesterday. I feel really bad about it."

"Do you know what it's called when music... sort of... builds up all at once? I'm trying to learn some terms... maybe I can impress her..."

That would be a crescendo, dear inhabitant. This does not occur to the Libero, and he offers no response.

"Can... can anyone help, please? Please? Can anyone..."

This particular inhabitant walks into view sounding on the verge of panic. The Libero approaches to see what the matter is.

"Oh, you're... imposing... who are you?"

"The Libero. What has you in a tizzy?"

"Th-there are monsters in the park. They used to live in the outer limits of town, so nobody went there. I think they got bored because we left them alone... They're attacking people... Please help!"

"I will purify these aggressors," the Libero assures.

"Okay, the park is just up this way. Please get rid of the monsters," the inhabitant asks of him before stepping out of the way.

The Libero follows the path the inhabitant came from. The park is a wide, circular area integrating much of nature as more than decoration. Five of the trees have swings hanging from them, a tall clock stands in the middle of the park, and there are four benches total. Just some observations.

The Libero explores this area, examining first the clock, then a bench, then two of the swings. It's only when he returns to the clock that three of the monsters ambush him.

Battle time.

The monsters are ugly things, nightmares given argon. One with hands so large, one with teeth so many, and one with eyes so cruel. The sight of them disgusts the Libero. He prepares to retaliate.

The Grabber, he names it, attempts to pull the Libero out of his stance when it attacks-- rather, it seems like it's attempting to pull him away in his entirety. He is quick to strike back and neutralize it.

The Nibbler is less interested in causing damage for damage's sake, and is instead simply ravenous. It sinks its teeth into the Libero's arm before being forced to release him as it is handily dispatched.

The Gazer is highly aggressive, assaulting the Libero with a fury he could not possibly justify. Its defense is especially low, and one counterattack destroys it completely.

Indulgences resisted.

"Fiends, are there any more of you? Reveal yourselves now," the Libero commands to the open helium. An inhabitant slowly walks out from behind a tree.

"Thank you... I was really scared..."

The inhabitant is quite shaken up.

"If there are any other indulgences to purify, point me in their direction," the Libero says to him.

"Uh... I saw a few along the tracks earlier, but I was too scared to say anything... now I don't want to have to take the tram ever again..."

Armed with this information, the Libero leaves the park and begins searching for the tram station. To the east, there is a platform and another large sign that reads Sergei. The tram is not in, however.

"The tram is late... I wonder what happened," an inhabitant by the tracks says when approached.

The Libero returns to town to do a small bit of exploring but ultimately finds nothing important. When he returns to the station, the tram is still missing. With no other option, the Libero decides to walk the track. The inhabitant who told him the tram is late frets about this choice but does nothing.

Indeed, there are many indulgences along the way. They flock to the Libero in small groups at a time. His hands are pure, and contact with their tainted argon purifies them quick and easy.

When the Libero steps off at the next station, reading Oscar, the Judge is perched atop the sign.

"I presume you have seen the value. Of exclusively defending oneself. So long as you are not the aggressor, you will always have the high ground," it hoots.

Curiously, the Libero holds out his arm at a perfect angle for a bird to perch on. Unable to resist the temptation, the Judge flaps down and takes the perch. The limb sinks slightly under its weight before the Libero adjusts to it.

"Yes. This would be quite a way to get around. Excellent."

The Judge adjusts its footing on the Libero's arm, lightly digging its talons into his argon with each movement. Perhaps he should look into the Judge's suggestion of arm guards.

"Onwards," the Judge commands. "We will find out how tolerable the ride is."

It's painful for the Libero and wobbly for the Judge. Altogether unpleasant. The Judge grows tired of it within minutes and dismounts, landing carefully on a fencepost nearby. The Libero's arm is marked red in various spots, but no blood has been drawn.

"Sometimes. Things simply do not work out," it says. "We will be seeing each other again. I bid you farewell."

The Judge remains where it sits, however. The Libero takes this as his cue to move on. Oscar is more of a city than a town, with buildings squeezed together and offices stacked on top of each other.

"The boss is scary..." one inhabitant within an office tells him.

"The boss is really nice," another contradicts.

"What? I am just filling out a report," a third says.

He decides to leave them alone and steps back outside. He continues his wandering, waiting for an inhabitant to inevitably ask him for his assistance again.

One of the buildings he wanders into looks like an empty shop. As soon as he walks in, there is a counter across from him. He peeks into the adjoining room and sees not an inhabitant, but a young man sitting on the floor. The boy notices him and jolts, scrambling to his feet and running to place himself behind the counter.

"I'm-- I'm so sorry! Did you... need things? Do you need things?"

The boy's face is almost cherub-like, framed by messy hair hidden partially under a darling little cabbie hat atop his head.

"Need what things? Who are you?" the Libero asks.

"I'm... I'm Calem, I'm a, uh... I'm your merchant," the boy answers. "I'm sorry I was playing. I didn't think anyone was coming by so soon."

The Libero feels as if he is unwittingly intimidating Calem, but there is not much he can do about this.

"What do you have for sale?" he asks.

Calem crouches behind the counter and begins placing items along it as he picks them up. There is a brand new pair of gloves with padding on the knuckles that the Libero immediately takes to. The rest of his equipment slots are soon taken up by knee guards, contact lenses, and an intangible concept called instinct. The gloves improve his offense, the guards his defense, the contacts his perception, and the instinct his reaction time. The latter two are imperative for a Libero to receive well.

Calem also has an assortment of treats available. The cookies are not stale, and are wrapped carefully in translucent white paper.

"I made these myself," he informs with some pride. "I hope you like them!"

Next to the pyramid of cookies Calem had stacked lies a collection of lollipops. If the cookies are good for restoring the Libero's health, the lollipops are good for restoring his energy. Does that make sense?

He purchases a handful of both, and his credits quickly approach zero. With his newfound equipment, the Libero leaves the building, blind to Calem waving goodbye from behind him.

With not an inkling as to where he's meant to go, the Libero returns to the Judge. He holds out one of the cookies and the Judge takes it in its talons.

"An offering. Very clever. I will assist you," it hoots, nibbling all the while. "In the northeast corner of town is a large building. Climb to the top of it. See what lies there."

The Libero looks up, and indeed manages to spot the building from where he is standing. He makes his way towards it and finds several inhabitants standing outside.

"The office is haunted..."

"Do we get paid for this..."

"Is it really okay to take the day off..?"

The Libero walks through the small crowd to enter the building. The way to the stairs has been blocked by several boxes and chairs. The Libero instead calls the elevator to get to the second floor. The ride is short and pleasant.

As soon as the Libero steps out and the elevator doors close behind him, he is beset upon by indulgences. Two Nibblers and a new creature, one the Libero quickly names Dreamer by the clouded look in its mostly closed eyes. His retaliation works wonders against the Nibblers, but the Dreamer floats there, dozing, unable to be countered as it does not attack first. The Libero has no means of attacking without first being attacked.

One more turn passes and the Dreamer wakes up. Luckily, the Libero is already set to retaliate, because the Dreamer's first and only attack deals massive damage-- damage that the Libero turns right back onto the Dreamer.

Indulgences resisted. The Libero gains access to a new pass: Bump. He eats a cookie to keep himself alive. Calem is quite a talented baker.

The Libero traverses the halls and encounters more indulgences along the way. One fight contains two deadly Dreamers and a new Liar. The Liar gets furious when the Libero's attention is on anything but itself. The Libero prepares his new skill, Bump. When the Liar lashes out at him, the Libero shifts its attack to one of the Dreamers, forcing it to take the damage in his stead. Another attack from the Liar kills the first Dreamer, and then the second wakes up.

The Liar is quicker than the Dreamer and has its attack redirected to it first. The Dreamer survives and attempts to strike, instantly killing the Liar. With only one opponent left, Bump cannot be utilized. The Libero braces for damage and strikes back as soon as the Dreamer attacks again.

Indulgences resisted.

He eats another cookie and sticks a lollipop in his mouth, already inconvenienced by just a few encounters. On this floor is a chest with another cookie inside it, and attached to it is a little sticky note with a cabbie hat drawn on it. It is safe to assume that the treasures the Libero finds are presents left around by Calem.

Before the Libero can ascend the staircase, he hears a loud commotion from the next floor up. He hurries to investigate but finds no moving creatures on the third floor. There are a few faint noises overhead again, but the Libero takes the time to investigate this floor before moving on. There are much fewer indulgences to be found on this floor and the following five.

After ascending one last flight of stairs, the Libero finally meets the light of the sun. Atop the roof is one other person-- tall and firm with a velvet dress wrapped around her form, stopping just shy of the floor. The longer the Libero looks at her, the more he thinks he is hearing music from afar, and then not so far.

"You don't work here," she says, the notes of her voice almost lost amongst the music. "There should be few spirits left by now. Clear out the rest of the building, if you will."

The towering lady passes him by before he can verbally agree, and the music fades with the clicking of her footsteps. The Libero soon follows her down, but she is nowhere to be seen nor heard. Only six indulgences are left in the building.

There is one straggler waiting for him on each floor but the first, its stairs kindly unblocked by the lady who had quite clearly kicked the obstacles aside. Once he is certain the building has been purified, he exits.

"The boss and a stranger unhaunted the office for us!" one of the inhabitants cheers.

"The boss is so strong."

"We're lucky her office is here."

The Libero approaches one of the inhabitants, curious about the boss he'd just met.

"That was miss Serenade. When she gets stressed out, she usually, um... leaves. I don't know where she goes, sorry."

It isn't very much information, but the Libero moves on nonetheless. He searches the city from top to bottom, finding no trace of Serenade. Once he is out of ideas, he returns to the station, finding that the tram is present this time.

"Miss Serenade cleared the way to Wolfgang! Now the tram is working again," the nearest inhabitant tells him.

The Libero boards the tram and takes it to the station in Wolfgang. It's a larger area, with much more space between the buildings. There are equal parts residential areas and mostly empty fields, teeming with little other than plants and the occasional wildlife. The animals passively observe the Libero as he walks through their home.

He comes across a large shed, big enough to be a hangar, and cheerful music can be heard flowing out from within. The instruments are playing incessantly, but with not an inhabitant in sight. The Libero walks over to the acoustic guitar and touches it, and it falls, motionless. The rest of the instruments fly higher up into the helium, completely out of reach. The Libero walks away from the guitar, and it begins playing on its own again, bringing the rest of the instruments back down to eye level.

The Libero takes a deep breath and opens the pocket watch. Quickly, he rounds the room, placing each instrument on the ground as he goes, until they have all been moved. He closes the watch, letting sweet helium back into his lungs, and the atmosphere changes suddenly in the silence of the shed. In the center of the scattered instruments, a large creature appears.

Battle time.

This one has many disembodied claws and a face lacking much other than six crystalline eyes. The Libero names it the Controller. He senses this will be a difficult fight and chooses to receive before doing anything else. The Controller attempts to smash the guitar over the Libero's head, and he bends to receive the blow against his forearm instead. The damage invigorates him and he cracks his knuckles as he prepares to retaliate.

A set of claws hurls a synthesizer at him, and the Libero volleys it straight towards the Controller. It breaks on contact with the indulgence, which enrages it. Two more instruments come flying at him-- a trumpet, and then a much larger bass-- and both are immediately passed back to the Controller. The Libero is indeed sustaining damage, however, and must take a pause from counterattacking to enjoy one of Calem's treats.

He takes a wasted attack in the meantime before the volley continues. It ends when the indulgence, riddled with hubris, throws the drum set at the Libero as its last effort, only to end up crushed under it seconds later.

Indulgence resisted.

"Did... did the instruments stop being haunted?" an inhabitant stammers at the shed's entrance. "Oh... some of the instruments broke..."

"Better than being haunted," the Libero provides.

"Yes. We can get new instruments, but the spirit was scary... This is where we usually like to perform for the boss."

That piques the Libero's interest.

"Serenade?"

"Yes, miss Serenade. The spirit being here kind of, um... drove us out. So now that it's gone, maybe we can invite her to watch us play again soon. Once we... buy new instruments..."

The Libero observes the damage. The trumpet and drum set appear intact, but the other instruments are damaged beyond repair.

The Controller did concede a bounty of credits.

"How much will it cost?" he asks.

"Oh, um... to replace the guitar, the synthesizer, and the bass... uh... 30,000 credits?"

The Libero does not have 30,000 credits to his name. His credits barely approach 10,000, in fact. He's about a third of the way there.

"I'll be back," the Libero says. For now, he will continue traversing Zone 1 until he has enough credits to pay for the damages.

"Oh, wait, please," the inhabitant calls, stopping him. "If you want to buy them for us, um... if it's not too much trouble, you could just go to Ludwig and pay for them there. Just say you want them delivered to the Wolfgang theater, please."

The Libero commits this information to memory.

"Alright," he says. "How do I get to Ludwig?"

"Oh, their station has been in disrepair for a while... You'd have to walk there. It's, um... kind of far. To the north, there's a really long bridge. Once you get across that, it's just a little further to Ludwig."

A northern bridge, then.

"It's been a little dangerous, though... what with the spirits lately..." the inhabitant warns. The Libero is unperturbed.

There's a significant clearing to the north before the bridge is within reach. In the clearing stands Calem, setting up a little folding table and chair off to the side. He sits down, his head barely peeking over the table, and displays his cookies and lollipops. When he sees the Libero approaching, he also produces a new set of equipment for him. The merchandise is quite tempting, but the Libero currently has damages to pay.

"Is something wrong..?" Calem asks at his hesitance.

"I need 30,000 credits to pay for instruments."

"Oh... that's a lot."

"I probably shouldn't be buying much until that's taken care of."

"I understand," Calem says. He unwraps one of his cookies and starts eating it, swinging his feet in his chair as he does so.

The Libero bypasses Calem's little shop and continues onto the bridge. There is a yellow save block right next to the bridge. The Libero ends up being quite grateful for it, as he is forced back by tremendously difficult indulgences again and again. Calem watches from his safe little spot, keeping the equipment in view in case the Libero decides to cave and buy it.

And cave he does. These encounters left him with more credits, and after buying a new set of equipment and selling his old set, he's back at his 10,000 budget. He hopes that the improved equipment will help him overcome the bridge. Alas, the encounters are simply far too many.

The Libero gets tired of venturing out too far while he trains, and elects to pace back and forth near the start of the bridge so he can be closer to the save block for when he inevitably has to go right back and heal. The indulgences do not engage him, however. Curious, the Libero walks further, triggering the first encounter at the exact same place it always occurs. Then the second is in just as consistent a spot.

The bridge has a palette of three shades of reddish brown. The planks under the Libero's feet are three of the lightest shade, then three of the middle shade, then one of the darkest. After that is three more of the middle, three more of the lightest, and so on. The encounters trigger on the darkest planks.

After healing one last time, the Libero pulls out his pocket watch and opens it whenever he's about to step over one of the darkest planks. The hidden indulgences, frozen in time, do not notice him. Because the spots where the indulgences lie are so tiny, the Libero can flip the watch open and closed as he walks without depriving himself of helium.

The sound beneath him softens as his feet move from long planks of wood to ever-expansive xenon. The indulgences on this side of the bridge are not nearly as bad as the ones on the bridge itself. The Libero purifies just two groups of them before he's reached Ludwig.

On the west side of town is the station. There is some sort of viscous black liquid all over the wall, the xenon, the track-- everywhere. Some of the inhabitants are hard at work trying to scrub it away. Another watches.

"No matter how much we try to get rid of this stuff, it just keeps coming back. I think it might be ghosts," he says.

"If this is the work of indulgences, I will dispatch them," the Libero says. The inhabitant doesn't really comprehend what he means.

No matter how much he investigates the station, the only thing he succeeds in doing is getting the black slime on his shoes. Seeing no immediate way to help, he heads back towards the main street.

In front of one of the buildings, there is a line of inhabitants. They clear out one by one once they've each retrieved something from the end of the line. The Libero goes to investigate and discovers a box of newspapers. He picks one out of the box and steps away to read it.

The headlines are mostly about the recent spirit outbreak, with some smaller stories about completely mundane things. Apparently, Serenade has an advice column as well. The Libero turns the page.

**BOUNTY**

**WANTED DEAD. PLEASE. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.**

**30,000 CREDIT REWARD**

Under the declaration of a bounty and above the reward is a composite sketch of a menacing spirit. It is covered in a shaggy mane that obscures any eyes it may have and it has twelve humanlike arms that end in birdlike talons. Before even meeting it, the Libero dubs it the Ruiner.

A guess can be hazarded that this spirit is what has been repeatedly mucking up the tram station. The Libero begins approaching inhabitants, showing them the picture and inquiring about the Ruiner, and most of them have no information about it whatsoever.

One inhabitant, however, reacts with enthusiasm to the Libero's questioning.

"Yes. Oh, yes, please. Please get rid of that thing. I don't care how you do it," he says. "It likes to hide in the forest behind the tram station and comes out in the dead of night to... put slime everywhere, I guess. I don't want to think about what that stuff might be. Please come back to me when it's dead."

It is still day, so the Ruiner will have to wait. The Libero explores the rest of Ludwig, finding a small library with little to offer other than shelves upon shelves of books, and a petting zoo. The animals within the petting zoo are two chickens, a cat, and... an owl.

The Judge hoots and postures at the inhabitant trying to pet it.

"Cease. Cease at once. I am no attraction."

The Judge carefully pets the cat with its talons, and the cat tolerates it.

"Is there anywhere I can pass the time until night?" the Libero asks. The Judge turns its head around to look at him without moving its bodily attention from the cat.

"You have the means. In your pocket."

"... It won't make me hold my breath until it's dark out, will it?"

"Advance time, fool. You will merely leave the present behind."

"Can I turn back if I need to?"

"Absolutely not. The clock goes forwards. Never backwards. There is no such thing as counterclockwise."

The Libero pulls the pocket watch out and opens it, examining the clock. He adjusts the hands, speeding time along and watching every living thing but the Judge jitter unnaturally as they go about their days. The Judge, unaffected by the quickened passage of time, keeps attempting to pet the cat, but it wanders too rapidly for the Judge to lay a talon on it. It hops across the xenon on one foot, trying to follow the cat for a bit before giving up and flying to perch on the fencepost nearest to the Libero.

At last, the sun goes down, and the Libero slams the watch shut and catches his breath.

"I see. The four elements are quite necessary for human life, after all. Xenon to hold up your feet, helium to fill your lungs, argon to compose your form, and neon to sustain you."

"Are you different?" the Libero asks. The Judge tilts its head quite far.

"Do I perhaps. Look human to you?"

"... No."

The Judge does not provide him with a straight answer, instead leaving it at that.

"You had something to do in the darkness of night?" the Judge reminds him. "I'm sure your task awaits."

That it does. The Libero leaves for the tram station, hoping to catch the Ruiner in the act.

The inhabitants that roamed the streets earlier have now tucked away into their homes. The city is silent and dark, the streets lit only by the dim light of the moon up above.

At the tram station, there is significantly less black liquid than when the Libero had last visited the area. He sits on the short staircase leading down to the forest path and waits.

The Libero sits perfectly still, silent as the dead. Perhaps it's because of this that a huge, shambling creature begins skulking towards the station, an obscenely long tongue trailing beside it and leaving a thick trail of black liquid in the grass.

The Libero stands when the Ruiner begins to approach, and it immediately turns tail and runs. He opens the pocket watch for long enough to catch up to the indulgence and attempt to engage with it, but it continues to flee when he closes the watch. It gets a huge lead on him with a sudden burst of speed and the Libero opens the watch to catch up again.

Three more times does he repeat this process until he has the Ruiner backed into the underside of a short cliff. The shallow alcove appears to act as a home for it, and the black ichor staining the cliff comes to life as the Ruiner finally stands its ground against the Libero.

Battle time.

The ichor crawls up the Ruiner's twelve terrible arms, providing a protective coating. The Libero prepares to receive, and the Ruiner swings at him three times. Each blow is received against the Libero's arms, and he is invigorated with aggression. He prepares to retaliate and strikes back mercilessly at each thrust of the Ruiner's arms. The arms themselves bend to useless angles, falling limp and dragging against the xenon as it moves.

The Ruiner loses momentum as the fight continues, slowing down to only two strikes per attack and then just one. It wheezes a horrid, rattling groan when it finally succumbs to the Libero's punishment, its ichor dissipating along with the purified indulgence.

Indulgence resisted.

The Libero treks back to the tram station and sits on the stairs again. He takes the pocket watch out and advances time in short spurts, allowing himself to breathe in between. When morning comes, a few inhabitants approach the platform and are visibly confused by the lack of black slime.

"The Ruiner has been purified. Your tramway is safe," the Libero tells them.

"Oh! Yes, I can finally go back to work!"

"We don't have to scrub the goo anymore!"

"Thank you, sir!"

The inhabitants cheerfully begin preparing the station and the Libero leaves them to it. He walks back to where he found the inhabitant who said to return to him.

"The Ruiner has been purified," he says. "Do you have the bounty?"

"Already? Wow, that was only one day! Thank you so much. You've done us a huge service."

The inhabitant hands over 30,000 credits.

"Do you know where I can buy instruments?" he asks.

"... Musical instruments? There's a shop in the northwest corner of the city that sells all sorts of things. It might have some instruments, too."

The Libero follows the street until it ends at the entrance to a store. Inside, there is a cluttered collection of odds and ends, and several musical instruments line the walls, partially obscured by racks of clothing. There is also a sweet smell in the room.

"Hi!" Calem greets from behind his counter. "I made muffins!"

The Libero picks out the synthesizer, guitar, and bass first, and then purchases two muffins.

"Thank you, thank you! Oh, do you want a smoothie? They're good for... ailments!"

He holds up a clear plastic cup, the contents within colored a pink and blue swirl.

"If you stir it, it turns purple!" he helpfully informs.

The Libero takes one and saves it for later.

"Could you get these instruments delivered to the Wolfgang theater?" he asks. Calem raises a hand, his sleeve slowly falling to reveal his fingers.

"Yes, I can do that! I bet I can deliver them quicker than you can get back!"

Calem smiles as he claims this.

"Thanks," the Libero says, unaffected by the challenge. His stoicness makes Calem shrink a little. This doesn't stop him from waving goodbye as the Libero exits his shop.

As the bridge might still be trapped, the Libero heads to the tram station to see if it's in working order yet. As he'd hoped, a tram is present and waiting to be boarded. He steps on and rides it back to Wolfgang.

Upon arrival, he heads straight for the shed and, to his utter ambivalence, finds that the instruments have somehow already been delivered. The inhabitant he spoke to about the damages is also present.

"Oh, hello!" he greets. "Um... we really appreciate you buying us new instruments and all, but..."

"Is there an issue?"

There'd better not be, after all that trouble.

"Oh, not with the instruments," the inhabitant assures him. "It's just that our bassist is sick, so we can't actually do a show right now. You'll have to come back some other time to watch us play."

"And if you find another bassist?"

"Huh? Um... If you know someone, then I guess we could do a show."

The Libero walks over to where the bass sits against the wall and grabs it.

"Oh. Okay, let me get everyone ready and contact miss Serenade," the inhabitant says, hurrying out of the room to do so.

The Libero holds the bass, tuning it to his liking while he waits for the inhabitant to return. His bandmates come back without him.

"We need to practice before miss Serenade shows up!" one of them says.

"Are we practicing without our drummer..?"

"He knows what to do, I don't!"

The inhabitants take position with their instruments, re-familiarizing themselves with them. The Libero quietly tunes the bass all the while.

When the drummer returns, he immediately starts scrambling to set up chairs. By the time he's halfway done, a crowd of people begins flooding in, all dwarfed by the crisp notes of Serenade's presence. The Libero watches her take a seat in the front row, and her tune does not falter even during their reciprocal moment of recognition. The drummer hurries to his spot and signals for the crowd to quiet down.

When the concert begins, the synthesizer is the main instrument. The Libero strums a bassline for it and the other instruments integrate themselves into the song, first the drums with a steady beat and an occasional soft cymbal crash, then the guitar that emphasizes and capitalizes on the bassline, and then the trumpet which takes over as the main instrument, the synthesizer conceding to support it. Once the Libero is confident in the melody, he strums the bass to the tune of the trumpet, and this transitions to the trumpet and guitar pausing to allow the synthesizer and drums to take the spotlight before reintroducing themselves for the finale. Not once does the Libero stop strumming the bass, not until the song is finished.

The present inhabitants and, surprisingly or not, Serenade herself, give the makeshift band an enthusiastic round of applause. The bandmates talk with the inhabitants who approach them, while the Libero abandons his instrument to gain an audience with Serenade.

"You did unexpectedly well, outsider," she praises, quite pleased. "You will fit in just fine."

"I'm not trying to fit in. I'm trying to do something."

"I see. And you are under the impression that I can help you do this?"

"Rather, I am under the impression that you may have something that belongs to me," the Libero says.

Serenade ponders this.

"You can't mean this..?" she says as she pulls out a key, displaying it between her index and middle fingers.

"Yes. I need that."

She smooths it back into the subtle pocket in the side of her dress.

"No."

The melody of her aura begins to become slightly discordant.

"I need it. I can't leave without it."

"You will," she says.

"I won't."

Her eyes slit with rage, the sight of her a furious allegro in the Libero's ears. The inhabitants all scatter out of the shed as the Libero assumes a defensive stance. Serenade holds a hand out and a swarm of butterflies spawn in mid-helium. They come together in a glow to form a butterfly-shaped masquerade mask, which Serenade places over her eyes.

Battle time.

"Ladies first."

Serenade plants her heel into the Libero's chest and gives him a forceful shove before he has a chance to prepare a retaliation, the damage going completely to waste.

The Libero starts by receiving, knowing that he will need any advantages he can get. He receives two blows from Serenade, landing heavy against his arms. They quickly become bloodied from her efforts, but a muffin from Calem whisks the damage away.

The first time he retaliates, Serenade snaps his wrist. He uses the drink he'd been saving then, and the bones obediently mend themselves back into place. She is fierce enough when she's on the offense, but her self-defense is monstrous. This will be a difficult volley.

The Libero is more careful with his next retaliation, turning her strength against her and quickly retreating before she can do any more damage than a graze of her claws. It is difficult to move with such agility, however, and it doesn't take long before Serenade has a hold of his wrist again. Rather than break it, her mask glows and his argon begins fading to purple and black, poison infecting his blood. He can't retaliate against poison, the damage simply eating away at him to no benefit of his own.

This doesn't stop him from continuing to volley Serenade's attacks back at her. Whether she attacks him close-up or uses a skill from afar, the Libero's instincts are just sharp enough to guide him, moving his body apart from his own will. One particular blast of energy should have missed him, but he dives for it just to hurtle it back at Serenade, blinding each of her seven eyes.

It's just fine that she's swinging blindly now, because the Libero pursues her attacks. She doesn't need to be accurate to hit him, nor to get hit.

The Libero retaliates one last time, and a final scream escapes Serenade. Her voice is given color in the helium-- white. It swirls into a hollow circle, almost like a halo. By the time it has finished forming, the last of her life has already left her, a tremendous swarm of monarch butterflies flitting helplessly away from where she once lied. The Libero takes the purple key off her motionless body, adds it to his necklace, and then approaches the halo.

The second key has been recovered.

Add-on Soprano acquired.


	3. Zone 2

The foyer mourns the loss of the piano, its silence loud as nothing but a subtle bassline is heard until the saxophone comes in. When the Libero approaches the entrance to zone 2, the instrument becomes much more prominent.

The save block he's dropped off at is atop a mountain. He'll have to descend to the base and see if he can't find any information on the whereabouts of the next key along the way.

The Libero climbs steadily down, and new indulgences engage him along the way.

Battle time.

Firstly, the Libero has learned a new pass: Rolling Receive. He readies this pass as Soprano rises from the depths of his mind to take form beside him.

The add-on has a skill set of its own, though its repertoire is quite small to begin with. It has two skills: Ebb & Flow and Lunatic Worship. Both are supportive skills, with the former reducing the amount of damage a target absorbs proportional to how many hits they take until their next move, and the latter inflicting madness on a target. The Libero has his newly acquired second consciousness use Ebb & Flow to support him.

A hideous thing with three gnarled mouths-- a Devourer-- lunges at the Libero and he receives the move as normal, feeling it empower him.

The Crier, a pitiful looking spirit with impossibly long hair obscuring each and every one of its features aside from its spindly limbs, sends an attack Soprano's way. The Libero dives to receive it in its stead, saving Soprano from sustaining any damage. Ebb & Flow reduces the pain in his arms, numbing to a dull throb where a sharp sting would normally make its home.

When the Libero chooses to retaliate, he has Soprano utilize its "integrate" command, and it slides behind his head before fading into the helium, removing itself as a target. As the Libero strikes back against the Devourer when it comes, an animate white ring materializes to briefly spin like a saw blade around his hand, turning one strike into two. The same occurs with the Crier, which looses a moaning sob as it dissipates.

Indulgences resisted.

A little further down the mountain is a set of counters and a smattering of inhabitants, all completely focused on their tasks. None of them notice the Libero until he approaches one at the counter, who jolts in surprise at the sight of him.

"How did you get up here..?" he asks. "Nevermind, do you have a permit?"

"Do I need one?"

"You can't be up here without a permit! How did you get past any checkpoints without one?!"

"I'm climbing down, anyway," the Libero says, but the inhabitant is not reassured in the slightest.

"No, you can't get past the checkpoints without a permit, in or out! You'll have to apply for one up here." He gets up and has a word with his coworker nearby before returning to the Libero. "We're getting the paperwork now. The only reason it's not ready yet is because you're supposed to apply at the base of the mountain, not up here."

"... Sorry."

The inhabitant's words are assertive, but his tone and his mannerisms denote the inherent timidity the inhabitants tend towards.

The second inhabitant waves him over after two phone calls and he points to a nearby man-made cave.

"Your papers are being printed in there. Ask for form 244," he instructs.

244 is an easy number to remember. Both even, multiples, one repeating. The Libero echoes the number to the inhabitant manning the leftmost side of the counter within the cavern.

"Form 244? You want to talk to Permits for that. This is Supplies. The Permits department is to my left."

The Libero takes a few meager steps to the right and speaks to the next inhabitant.

"Form 244? But... you're clearly not from around here. If you're from another zone, you need to see Foreign Relations. They're upstairs, furthest desk to the right."

The Libero looks up and stares for a moment before following the inhabitant's directions.

"Oh... Yes, this is Foreign Relations, but, uh... We're kind of out of paper up here. Could you see Supplies and get some printing paper so we can print form 37 for you?"

The Libero commits that number to memory just in case. He treks back down the stairs to talk to the first inhabitant again.

"Printing paper? Okay, sure. I'll be right back."

He steps away from the counter for a moment, turning a corner and disappearing before he returns with a wrapped stack of papers in hand.

"Here you go. Please sign here with your name and department."

"I don't work here."

The inhabitant slowly, wordlessly pulls the stack of papers away and hides them under the desk.

"..."

The Libero goes back up to the second floor to speak to Foreign Relations again.

"Oh. Right. Okay, I'll go get the papers, then. Please wait here," he says.

The Libero stands completely still while he waits, almost stubbornly so. The inhabitant returns a few minutes later, printing paper in hand. He slides back behind his desk and unwraps the packaging, taking out ten papers.

"There are some extra for good measure. The form isn't actually ten pages long. Could you please take this to Printing and Copying and tell them you need form 37 printed?"

The Libero guesses at which station must be Printing and Copying, getting it right on his second try.

"Form 37? Okay, I'll have it printed right away."

The form is six pages long, it turns out. The Libero flips through it as he returns to Foreign Relations.

"Okay, good... I'm kind of weird about people touching my pens, though, so you can just answer each question verbally."

The Libero shrugs.

"Name?"

"Libero."

"Uh... is that... a name..?"

The Libero offers nothing but silence. The inhabitant scribbles the name down.

"Okay, what zone are you from?"

"... Zero," he answers, since it's true enough.

"Uh... zero? Is... is that a zone? No wonder you look so different..." He writes that down, too. "Okay, occupation?"

"Purifier."

"Goals?"

"Purify."

"Uh... could you elaborate?"

"Like cleansing. Saving. Destroying ghouls and demons."

"Oh! Okay. Maybe you can help with our own ghoul problem, then. Uh, anyway... Have you lived in the same place for the past three years?"

The Libero shrugs.

"... Okay, I'll just put you down as a yes... Would people who have worked with you describe you as more hardworking than usual, just as hard a worker as everyone else, or not a hard worker at all?"

The Libero thinks of what the Judge might say. The Judge might say something cryptic. This helps no one.

"More hardworking," he decides.

"Okay, excellent. What makes you happy?"

"Love and special things."

"Okay... what type of animal do you think best represents you?"

Once more, he shrugs.

"Big cat."

"Uh... okay, I'll put down "unspecified jungle cat". Do you prefer refrigerated leftovers cold or heated up?"

"Cold."

"Oh... Okay, one more question. Do you promise not to intentionally cause trouble and/or disturbances, break any laws, nor disrespect any order while you are here in zone 2?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, you're all set. Welcome to zone 2! Kind of weird that you did this process up on top of the mountain and not at the base, though."

Now that he's filled out form 37, the Libero must next tackle form 244. He heads back down to Permits.

"Oh, you filled out form 37? Good, good. Okay, you needed form 244, right? Here you go."

The Libero fills it out himself this time, sparing both of us his pain. It takes more than a few minutes for him to read through each section and write his answers.

"Everything seems to be in order here. I can issue you a permit, then. Just show this to the security guards at the checkpoints and they'll let you through."

Permit received.

Assuming he is free to go now, the Libero resumes his descent. Very close by the cave is the first (or last, were he going the right way) checkpoint. The security guards check his permit and open the gate for him, and the Libero is quickly met with a familiar face on the other side.

"Um, so... I set up shop at the bottom of the mountain, because... I thought... you'd climb UP..." Calem complains.

"Yeah, I started at the top."

"Okay, well... at least my shops on the way down are already set up... wanna take a look at what I've got?"

The Libero purchases some much needed equipment and plenty of sweets and drinks. Calem is quite happy that the Libero likes his treats.

Once his shopping is done, the Libero continues down the mountain path. Looking out, the horizon seems endless, and the cities below like little toy models. It's a long way down.

There aren't many distractions until the mountain path leads into a cave rife with indulgences. The Libero dispatches a large amount of them, but they slip endlessly through the walls to ambush him again and again.

To make matters worse, going deeper into the cave unveils the fact that it's an electromagnetic nightmare. There are caution signs all around, warnings to stay away and follow a detour. Unfortunately, seeing as the Libero is going the wrong way, the detour is closed to him because no guards are manning that side, quite sure that no unexpected guests are on the mountain.

Electricity dances from a large charge stone to the walls around it, and the Libero is not at all interested in getting electrocuted. He pulls out the pocket watch and holds his breath, stopping the flow of electricity. However, the pattern is so wild that he can't possibly maneuver around the frozen streaks without making contact. He walks back to where he started and closes the watch, observing the pattern carefully.

Every six seconds or so, the bolts line up perfectly out of the Libero's way for but an instant. He waits for one more cycle before opening the watch at the exact right moment. He's sure to walk a ways away from the charge stone before closing the watch.

Smaller charge stones litter the area and the Libero elects to avoid them entirely, not needing the watch to do so. The xenon crackles with a constant layer of electricity, strong enough to be quite noticeable but weak enough to be benign.

The security guards on the other side are alarmed by him and start making phone calls to the previous checkpoint to inquire about him. The Libero avoids another awkward lecture about how he's going the wrong way by sneaking past them while they're on the phone. There is another load of signs posted all around about the danger he's already passed, but there are no more hazards ahead that he can detect.

The cave doesn't take long to exit, and the Libero hears a hoot from a gnarled tree.

"I see. I had assumed that you made considerable progress, while I wasn't looking. But no. You've done it backwards."

With every lecture he avoids, he walks right into another.

"Any idea why I had to start at the top of the mountain?" the Libero asks. "The inhabitants seem upset by it."

"How should I know? Perhaps your head was in the clouds when you entered the zone."

"..."

"It's funny."

The Libero doesn't seem to agree.

"Enough fooling around. On a serious note. Perhaps your spawn point is an advantage. I sense something is quite amiss."

"Like what? How is it an advantage?"

"Or perhaps. A disadvantage."

"Can you explain that?"

"I cannot."

The Libero responds with plain silence before turning to leave. The Judge remains perched in the tree.

The indulgences outside are not as plentiful as in the cave, but they are just as powerful. He clears a path through them until he reaches the next checkpoint. The guards examine his permit and allow him through, and he sees a picnic of sorts on the other side. Four inhabitants sit on a checkered blanket, eating neatly cut little sandwiches from a woven basket.

It seems that the mountain is some type of tourist attraction. From this point on, all the inhabitants the Libero encounters are either strict workaholics or sightseers.

The Libero stops suddenly, swearing he feels a phantom sensation of the electricity tickling his shoes. It's a vibration of some kind, and then it fizzes out.

"..?"

The Libero looks around and, seeing no reactions from anyone else, chalks it up to lingering static and moves on.

A few more meters down the mountain and the Libero is following a narrow path along the side of it, the xenon looking as if it might crumble beneath his feet if he makes any sudden movements. The Judge comes flying in to land on his shoulder, startling him greatly with its utter soundlessness.

"Just one moment. Advance time to night. I wish to see something," it commands.

"Right here?" the Libero protests. "Not on better footing?"

"Do as I ask. I will even say. Please."

The Libero presses his back against the cliff and moves the watch forward in time. When he looks up from it, there is an aurora twisting gently up above. It paints the sky with ribbons of orange fading into green. What a lovely view.

"Yes. Lovely," the Judge concurs.

"Can I move now?"

"Did I ever tell you not to move?"

The Libero doesn't dignify the question with an answer, just continues watching his step down the narrow walkway, now with an owl leaning his weight to the sheer cliff's side. This makes him paranoid and he stops again, though he does not ask the Judge to dismount.

Eventually, the Judge's enamorment dies down and it flies off, presumably to admire the view from higher up. The Libero contemplates sidling against the wall as he becomes even less certain about his footing.

The path opens back up a few more meters down, however, and the Libero's anxiety leaves him. Following the open path leads him to a settlement, a little town labeled Ornette. There is a checkpoint to go through on the other side of town, what is supposed to be the entrance, but the Libero takes the time to explore first. More importantly, he turns time forward so that it's day again, seeing as most of the inhabitants appear to be asleep.

Featured prominently is a gift shop, run by who else but Calem? There are inhabitants within picking out souvenirs, and Calem stands behind the counter with the friendliest look on his little face. The Libero checks his stock, finding no new equipment, and purchases a lone muffin.

"Thank you very much!" Calem bids as the Libero leaves.

He finds no tram stations in town and resigns to continuing his climb. Once the checkpoint is passed, the scenery becomes quite lush. Tall plants brush their flowers against trimmed hedges and the trees are perfect for climbing. The Libero takes the beaten path, not a toe out of line. It would certainly be a shame to trample such a beautiful scene.

The wilderness takes over, making the craggy backdrop still less than even a mile behind him feel like a distant memory. The forest is dense, and the indulgences quite like to hide in its shadows.

Battle time.

Two of a new enemy engage him-- Lechers, he names them, by the unsettling way their eyes roam. Soprano integrates and the Libero Bumps one Lecher's attack to the other, and then reciprocally. He does this twice more until only one remains, and he has Soprano integrate again to assist in his retaliation. When the Lecher does finally make actual contact, the feel of its argon sends a disgusting shiver down the Libero's spine, and he's glad to watch it die.

Indulgences resisted.

When the Libero places his attention back on his surroundings, he notices they don't seem quite the same as when he last looked. He continues moving forward, only to end up faced with the very same checkpoint he'd passed through not long ago, confirmed by the sign reading Ornette. Confused, the Libero turns back around, watching the environment carefully as he treads.

There are these slight shifts every so often-- and that's just what he manages to catch out of the corners of his eyes. When looked at directly, the trees and vines stay put. When left unattended, however, they fidget mischievously, rearranging themselves and sending the Libero in circles.

He can't be constantly looking at them all, but he has other means of stopping them from moving. He takes several deep breaths before opening the watch, the halted nature holding perfectly still as he rushes past it. It's only when he finds a small clearing that he closes the watch, and the trees rustle behind him, annoyed and disappointed. The Libero takes a moment to rest, and then he opens the watch again for good measure.

Sweet helium is his again for good when he finally manages to exit the forest, the next town waiting for him. This one's signs read Sidney, and the streets are oddly empty. The largest building in town, it turns out, is a casino. It has drawn most of the inhabitants in, crowding around tables where games are being played. The Libero looks to see if Calem is around. A silly thought! Calem is too young to be allowed in a casino.

The inhabitants running the games try to entice the Libero, but he is not a gambling man. That is, until he hears one inhabitant advertising his game with the reward of "a mysterious key!"

"The rules are simple! There are four players to a game. Each player is given a card, and one of you will be randomly chosen to be the "liar", who has to lie about which card they have. The rest of the players must tell the truth about what card they have."

"It's a game of elimination," he continues. "If there is a unanimous decision that someone is a liar, that round ends. If the decision was correct, the liar is eliminated and everyone else moves onto the next round, where a new liar is chosen. If the liar is sussed out again in that round, then the final round is different; both players are given three cards and will state their totals. They can either lie or tell the truth, and both players have to guess whether the other is lying or not. If there's a tie, they're dealt new cards until someone wins."

"Also, if at any point, someone is incorrectly pinned as the liar and the round ends on a unanimous vote against them, the liar wins no matter what round it is!"

Those rules were quite lengthy and not very simple.

"Can I see the key?" the Libero asks.

"Um... well, no, you have to win the game first..." the dealer says, the confidence he had during his explanation fading fast.

"Guess I'll play," the Libero shrugs. He sits down and waits for less than a minute until the table is filled with three other players.

Everyone is dealt a playing card and a note card. The Libero peeks at each of them: 3 of diamonds and Truth Teller.

"Alright, now everyone declare your cards!" the dealer says.

The inhabitant across from the Libero declares the ace of spades, the one to his left declares the 6 of spades, and the one to his right declares the king of hearts. The Libero declares his own card, and there is a moment of tense silence as the players attempt to register any tells.

The first player was confident in their claim, and the third as well. The second, however, spoke too quickly after the first, coincidentally naming the same suit. The Libero chooses the player to his left as the liar, and the other two hesitantly go along with his decision. The inhabitant flips his cards over, revealing an ace of hearts and a note that says Liar.

The cards and notes are collected and the eliminated player stands back from the game. This time, the Libero is dealt a king of spades and is given the Liar card. The inhabitants declare their cards. Lying is not in the Libero's nature.

"King of clubs," he claims reluctantly. It's close enough.

The other players luckily don't seem to catch on that he is a terrible liar, instead staring each other down to determine which one of them must be lying. Falsely accusing someone is also against the Libero's nature. It's just a game, dear. No need to fret.

The other players can't seem to reach a decision, so the Libero randomly points at one of them. The other immediately follows along, and the inhabitant flips over his cards to reveal the 7 of diamonds he'd claimed and a Truth Teller card. The Libero flips his own cards over and immediately stands.

"The key," he says. The dealer hurriedly gets it out of his pocket and hands it to the Libero, more than a little stressed out.

It is an old copper skeleton key. Not the kind he's looking for. His fist clenches around it. He lied for nothing.

Thoroughly bothered by this, the Libero immediately leaves the casino. He's not in the mood to check the rest of the town, so he heads straight for the checkpoint at the entrance so he can be let through.

The scenery now is a bit plain, but that makes things more convenient. The grass is short and the trees are fewer, resulting in a much better line of sight. The ensuing walk is peaceful and uneventful, allowing the Libero time to cool off.

That is, until the xenon begins vibrating beneath his feet. He's sure of it this time, no longer convinced it was his imagination. It's not major, hardly enough to rustle some loose papers, were he indoors. The quaking subsides and the Libero continues. Not five minutes later, there is a stronger tremor.

The Libero walks through it now, figuring he won't get anywhere if they're going to be frequent and he pauses each time. It takes longer to stop, but the xenon remains calm for a while afterwards.

The xenon is weakened from the shifting, though, and three new indulgences emerge, crawling arm-first out of holes they've dug from God knows how far down. They don't fully emerge, staring the Libero down from where they lie halfway underxenon, loose dirt falling to reveal more and more of their terrible faces.

Battle time.

The Libero readies a Rolling Receive and has Soprano use Ebb & Flow, working together to ensure the chunks of xenon and filth the Burrowers launch at them don't go to waste. Next turn, the two combine to retaliate at full strength and then some, and the Burrowers succumb rather easily.

Indulgences resisted.

As soon as the sign for the town of Grover comes into view, the world begins shaking again. It's powerful enough to throw the Libero off balance, forcing him to stumble and catch himself before he can end up on his knees-- or his face. He stands there, stance low and balance very manual and he hears inhabitants panicking from afar. The quaking gets weaker and the Libero starts moving forward, reaching Grover just as it stops.

The inhabitants are running in the streets, panicking over what is most likely nothing. One of them is particularly close to the Libero.

"Hhhh... this isn't... within the guidelines..!"

The inhabitant, destabilizing from the stress the frequent tremors have been causing him, attacks the Libero. His form appears to be drifting apart. Melted.

The Libero is quick and clean about putting it down, Soprano's extra attack on his retaliation working wonders.

"Why can't... everyone just follow the rules..." the Melted inhabitant wheezes before succumbing to its wounds.

"Who's doing that?! Who's doing that?! Someone has to be doing it!"

Another Melted lashes out at the Libero, but it's not he who puts it down.

"Every one of you needs to calm the fuck down!" a booming voice commands. The inhabitants all immediately stop and hug themselves nervously, attempting to do as they're told.

The man who shouted, and who protected the Libero from the Melted, stands tall and muscular, and he bears the broadest shoulders. On his face lies no eyes, but he does have a mouth.

Most importantly, surrounding this man is the confident tune of a saxophone.

"Do you--"

"What are you staring at, punk?" he interrupts. "Get back to work."

The man is walking away before the Libero can clarify that he does not work here. He heads towards the entrance of the town, his melody disappearing with him as he exits the Libero's field of view.

He attempts to ask around about that man, but most of the inhabitants are too shell shocked to hear him. They're still trying their hardest not to melt. Even the security guards stare blankly, the gate pushed open exactly how the man left it.

Maybe some of the inhabitants inside the buildings have information for him. The inhabitants in the first few buildings he peeks into are much too agitated too approach. The fourth building turns out to be a shop, and Calem sits on a barstool, unaffected by the tremors.

"Hey, there was a guy here who got everyone in line just by yelling. Any idea who that was?" the Libero asks.

"That was probably... the guardian of zone 2..."

He figured.

"Um... he's a nice guy, he just kinda... adds too many steps to stuff. He tries to make thinks simpler by breaking them down, but he actually makes it way more complicated. But everyone listens to him."

The Libero purchases new equipment while he's here, foregoing any extra sweets for now. He is rather stocked up.

"Thank you for the credits! I hope you like your stuff!" Calem says. The Libero thinks he is acknowledging him with a slight nod, but it goes completely unnoticed.

When he gets back outside, most of the inhabitants are moving again, and almost all of them have calmed down. They're still a little hesitant to talk, but Grover is no longer a veritable ghost town, at least.

"We're lucky mister Toccata was here," one of the security guards says, "or more of us would have melted."

"Does Toccata live in this town?" the Libero asks. "I have something I need to address with him."

"Uh... no? He lives in Rahsaan, at the base of the mountain... Were you not there already?"

Not this again.

"I guess you must have missed him. Oh well. Your permit checks out, so you can go."

The Libero passes through the last (or first) checkpoint. He can see the base of the mountain, see the trees and buildings on the horizon, but it's still a long drop from here.

This far down, the path has some sparse steps built into the xenon to make it just a little easier to traverse. The Libero didn't really notice, but the mountain path becomes more and more treacherous as one climbs higher. Down here, plenty of animals roam and some inhabitants loiter around, presumably sightseeing or getting ready to climb higher. The Libero walks past them all, his goal clear.

He makes it all the way to Rahsaan before there's another quake. It's powerful, but quick. It's over almost before he'd registered it was happening. The inhabitants in Rahsaan are anxious, but they're not melting.

The Libero begins searching the town for Toccata. The first building he enters looks like an empty store. That is, until he notices Calem huddled in the corner.

"Hey," the Libero says to announce himself. "What are you doing?"

Calem slowly uncurls his body and turns to face the Libero, his cheeks red and stained with fresh tears.

"... You're crying," he notes awkwardly.

"I'm sad because I'm scared..."

"Of the tremors?"

He shakes his head and sniffs.

"No," he says, "I'm scared of the future."

"Because you don't know what it holds?"

Calem frowns. He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, they're trained downwards.

"... It's okay. I'll cheer up by the next time you see me. Pinky swear."

Calem extends his pinky, barely poking out from beneath his sleeve. The Libero takes a long time to catch on, but eventually, he raises his hand and mimics the pose. Calem interlinks their fingers and mocks a handshake.

"See? I'm feeling better already!" he says with a smile. "I think, if we can be friends, then everything will be alright."

The Libero remains silent and lets his hand slowly fall to his side when Calem lets go.

"Wanna buy anything while you're here?" he asks, putting his best effort into appearing cheerful even while his eyes are still puffy and red.

"I'm good," the Libero says. He feels that Calem could use a moment to himself.

The moment the Libero steps ouside, he has to catch himself on his hands and knees, thrown forward by the magnitude of the sudden tremors. Indulgences pour out of the xenon, far too many for one man to handle. It's a good thing the Libero is, instead, a purifier.

Battle time.

He doesn't bother counting the indulgences, not when they writhe so close together, their numbers appearing to grow by the second. The Libero prepares to Bump and removes Soprano as a target, causing an impossibly long and exhausting chain reaction of the indulgences being forced to kill each other. The Libero quickly begins to run low on stamina, and the pocket watch occurs to him, unwilling. He shakes it out of his head-- he can't breathe while he uses that thing anyway.

The inhabitants are fully panicking now due to the long quake and the mass of indulgences, the lot of them melting one after another. Things are beginning to look hopeless.

As if the xenon working against him wasn't enough, an obscenely strong wind nearly steals his balance from him, and when he looks, Toccata's back is to him.

"Keep your wits about you," he encourages. "I've gotcha."

The two of them fight together, never once facing each other. And when the indulgences have been resisted, the Melteds have been purified, and the shaking has subsided, they finally share a glance.

"I know," Toccata says. "You ready?"

He is not. They're both exhausted.

"Just give me the key," he commands. Toccata's lips pull up into a toothy smirk, his melody slowing to one of menacing emphasis.

"Get your own fucking key, punk."

Turning to fully face the Libero, Toccata lowers himself-- one knee, both feet, and both hands on the xenon as a horde of ferrets come bounding out of the woodworks to twirl around his wrists and ankles. They spin until they become solid helium, a constant visible breeze trailing beside him. They convert into a mask on his face as well, giving him the illusion of possessing a pair of eyes. Judging by the glow exuding from the holes in the mask, he just might.

His tune is steady and obstinate, reaching unexpected pitches to go along with his unbelievable speed. The way he assails the Libero leaves him feeling like the watch is in Toccata's possession-- like he's frozen in time and he can't breathe.

He pulls himself together and begins retaliating to the best of his ability, sneaking in little attempts to heal himself whenever he sees an opportunity, or a necessity. Toccata will lose momentum eventually, and the Libero will outlast him in this volley.

"Should'a fuckin' left you for dead, huh?" Toccata comments between blows. "Should'a ignored you and let you kill yourself on the ghosts. But I just can't fucking help myself, can I?"

The Libero takes offense to the implication that he would have died if not for Toccata's assistance. He was overwhelmed, yes, but he would have figured it out. He always does.

"Do you think yourself a savior?" the Libero asks.

Toccata laughs, the saxophone reaching its highest pitch for the short duration of it.

"Me? I'm nothing but a damn fool."

The Libero swears he hears a shiver in his voice, a botched note or three in his melody.

The volley continues, both of them stained with blood only partially their own. Each time Soprano reemerges from the Libero's consciousness, Toccata's hands twitch with the slightest hesitation.

His trembling is noticeable now, quivering lips pursed together as his tune becomes more uncertain-- unnatural highs and lows accompanied by unsteady hyperventilation. The color of fear is an odd look on such a big, strong man. It is one that has always failed to paint the Libero.

He has realized that he is going to die, and he's thinking about all that he's leaving behind. If it were the Libero, he would simply fight harder, but Toccata's fathomless regret weighs him down, his past shackles in the shape of solid helium. He becomes slower, his attacks weakening.

The final blow earns the Libero not a scream, but a whimper. It solidifies regardless, spinning out into the open until a second halo is formed. His body shakes to the very end, still perceptible in the horde of ferrets that scatter from the outline of him.

The third key has been recovered.

Add-on Baritone acquired.


	4. Zone 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please heed the content warning found in the additional tags. Tread lightly.

The foyer has gone mostly silent. The bass is ever present, but the only other instrument that remains is a shy little recorder, quiet and slow now as if it has caught on to what's coming. Only one zone left.

The Libero is dropped off right on the outskirts of a huge city called Dolmetsch, the even and still xenon holding it up a welcome change from zone 2. This zone has a different atmosphere from the previous two. As the Libero walks through the streets, it seems... cheerful and lively. There are bright, colorful lights, upbeat music playing from various sources and conflicting with each other at certain places, and there is a different scent of food with every few steps the Libero takes.

"You got here just in time! There's a festival this week!" an inhabitant informs him.

That explains the situation, then.

"What's it for?" he asks.

"Um... I don't know, little Aubade sort of sprung it on us. He does stuff like that without any explanation all the time. Sometimes it's troubling, but sometimes his surprises are fun!"

"Aubade?"

"He's our zone guardian."

Already, the Libero knows the name of his target. It's a huge, crowded city, though. Finding him may not be so easy. Still, the Libero asks around as he passes by many an attraction and food stall.

"He's kind of weird. I think it might be easier to live in one of the other zones."

"Aubade? He's really nice, and, um... good at stuff. We love him."

"Little Aubade is too young to give us much work... it's kind of stressful..."

Young, irresponsible, unpredictable, carefree. These are the traits of Aubade that the Libero pieces together.

As he's walking, he passes by many games that have been set up in stalls. One of them seems to be baseball themed.

The Libero steps up out of curiosity.

"Oh, hi! Let me explain the rules of the game. Basically, I'm gonna toss a ball at you and you have to hit it with the bat and knock over the stack of bottles. But not too hard, please," he quietly adds.

The Libero picks up the foam bat, finding it oddly light in his hand. He readies it and waits for the inhabitant to toss the ball. He swings... and misses.

"Oh... That's okay, you can try again if you want," the inhabitant offers.

The Libero collects the ball and places it on the counter. When it's tossed, his swing connects this time. He puts too much force into it and the inhabitant ducks for cover as it bounces off the walls of the booth.

"Shit."

Invariably, the bottles all end up knocked to the floor, along with a few other things that the Libero peers over the counter to check on. The ball finally rolls to a stop, caught between the wrinkles of the tarp the booth is set up on.

"W... well... one way or another, you won..." the inhabitant wheezes, slowly getting back up. "You can pick a prize from up there."

Plush toys hang from above, miraculously untouched. There is a frog, and then several more frogs. The Libero takes his time arbitrarily choosing one. They are all the same.

He carries the oversized toy under his arm as he continues exploring the city. Oddly, there appear to be no roads that lead out of it, except to the small area he started in. With little other options, the Libero begins checking buildings, starting with a clearly labeled shop.

"Hi, Libero! Welcome to the best zone ever!" Calem greets with enthusiasm. "Do you like the festival so far?"

"The best zone?"

"It's really fun and colorful here! See? It's great for anyone!"

"Do you like Aubade?" he asks.

Calem seems taken aback by the question.

"... Well, sure!" he says. "Anyone in charge of a zone like this must be pretty nice!"

Be a sweetheart and offer that toy you don't want to Calem, Libero.

"Do you want this?"

He holds the stuffed frog out.

"Oh, I have a gajillion of these! I like them a lot. Thank you!"

Calem accepts the plush and gives it a hug.

"Wanna buy stuff while you're here?"

The Libero stocks up on better equipment and tunes the pitches on Soprano and Baritone. It's a service Calem provides, though the Libero cannot fathom how he does it.

"Do you know how to get out of this city?" the Libero asks once his shopping is wrapped up.

"Oh, the way to get around is fun, too! Some of the houses belong to people, but the ones that don't are actually... portals! Well, sort of. When you get inside, you have to change your perspective. Then just walk out the door and you'll be somewhere else!"

The Libero has a difficult time wrapping his head around the explanation.

"Just go try it! You'll figure it out when you get there."

He shrugs and leaves, wary as he steps out in case what Calem was talking about is already in effect. His surroundings are the same as he remembers, and he moves on to the next building. Inside, there is a tiny room and a crank on the wall. The Libero turns it and both hears and feels the room turning as well, the scraping of walls, flooring, and ceiling shifting and shaking until the Libero deems his "perspective" changed enough.

When exiting the room, the entire city looks different. This place is much calmer, and it lacks the festival stalls, but there is a ferris wheel a few blocks away. After a bit of exploring, the Libero discovers a sign for the town that labels it Krainis.

"The ferris wheel has been out of commission for a few days... can't little Aubade fix this?" an inhabitant thinks aloud.

"What's wrong with the ferris wheel?" the Libero asks. It looks fine from this distance, after all.

"Um... there are ghosts on it..."

"I'll take care of it."

"Oh! Thank you. I recommend riding it once it's freed up. It's really nice."

The Libero is only worried about the spirits. When he approaches the ferris wheel, he can actually see them occupying the cars. As one comes down, he quickly ushers them out to engage them.

Battle time.

Soprano has learned a new skill: Reflected Light. Baritone, on the other hand, has three skills parallel to Soprano's: Melt & Grow, Harsh Revelation, and Direct Sunlight.

Firstly, the Libero prepares a Rolling Receive, silently commanding his add-ons to support him. While Ebb & Flow proportionally decreases the damage the Libero takes while receiving, Melt & Grow increases the damage in exchange for increasing the degree to which his stats raise when he gets hit. The two should mostly even each other out.

The first hit by an especially abhorrent indulgence with most of its form consisting of a long, gaping mouth is somewhat brutal, the effects of Baritone's skill increasing the damage without a consecutive strike to begin activation of Soprano's.

The second is by a smaller indulgence with one arm wrapped around four frog toys with various jewelry draped over them. It doesn't hit quite as hard, and the Libero feels invigorated.

The Libero prepares to retaliate and integrates Soprano. He has Baritone use Direct Sunlight, which doubles any stat changes that have been applied to a target. The Gaper aims at the Libero and pays with its life, while the Hogger swipes at Baritone and gets away with it for the moment.

When the next car reaches xenon level, the indulgences within hop out to join the ongoing battle. Libero integrates both add-ons and prepares a Bump, forcing the three Hoggers to attack each other. Another Bump and one of the Hoggers dies, right before another replaces it along with an extra Gaper.

In order to keep his hands free, the Libero has Soprano heal him while he readies his retaliation, and Baritone uses Direct Sunlight to drastically empower the Libero. Each indulgence goes down, only for more to join the fray. Not a single one of them can survive more than one hit by this point, however, and they simply do not possess the strength nor the numbers to pose a reasonable threat.

Indulgences resisted.

Now that the ferris wheel has been cleared out, the Libero takes the inhabitant's earlier suggestion, if only to have a reason to sit down for a moment. Slowly, the car takes him up... and then back down. He doesn't understand the point. When he steps off of the ride, there is already a line of inhabitants waiting to get on. He's hasty about getting out of the way.

The rest of Krainis has little to offer, and the Libero steps into another building containing a crank. He pulls it just a bit this time, a little twist to the right, and steps out.

He's still inside, it would seem. The ceiling is black and spotted with stars and clouds to imitate the night sky, but the stillness and absence of the moon gives it away as a fraud. Along the floor are pillars of varying sizes and placements, with no apparent rhyme or reason to the order of them.

The Libero walks between the pillars, searching the room, but ultimately finds nothing. When he gets back to the crank, he spins the room a little further.

Now, when he walks out, it is immediately apparent that he's back in Dolmetsch, though he's exited from a different building as the one he'd used to transport to Krainis.

He picks another building at random and spins it halfway. The room he ends up with is pitch black, the only light coming from the doorway he stands in. The pure darkness gives the room an unfathomable depth, and the Libero is cautious about putting a foot forward. He doesn't fall into nothingness, so he takes one more step.

When something sharp clutches his arm, he immediately reacts with violence, swinging at something that is no longer there.

"Cease this at once. Bring me out of this hellish room."

Ah. It's just the Judge.

"How did you get in here?" the Libero asks. He steps back into the light of the original room and waits for the Judge to follow him.

"Transporting to this zone is always a gamble. I knew this would be your next destination. And so I attempted to follow you. I have been here in maddening darkness. The entire time."

"What would have happened if I didn't find you?"

"I would have returned to zone 0. And tried again. I knew your exploring would lead you here. Thus, I waited."

"Why is coming here complicated?"

"Getting in or out of zone 3 normally requires use of its guardian's system. You were exempt from this, for at least your way in. Now you too are subject to this system."

"If I pick the wrong house, I could end up in another zone?"

"No. Open your ears and hear my words. Everything you see is determined by your own mind. You were curious, and thus the rooms showed you unexpected things. A room like this, a blank darkness, can be accessed by anyone. Most are unique to the person."

By that logic, if the Libero simply envisions Aubade, will he be taken straight to him? He pulls the crank along the rest of the way, stepping out into a new city. The Judge flies up onto the roof of the building they've just come out of, grooming the feathers on its wings.

The Libero was thinking specifically of reaching Aubade when he turned the crank, so this should logically be the city Aubade lives in, yes? He peeks inside many of the buildings, finding occupied houses and yet more transport rooms. He finds the edges of the city, searching for an exit just in case, but it is closed off like the rest. The sign at one end reads Abreu.

Lost, the Libero returns to the Judge.

"You said I just have to envision where I want to go," he says. "I don't think this is my destination."

"Fool. That is not at all what I said. Perhaps it is what you heard. But not what I said."

The Judge hovers down and the Libero holds his arm out to use as a perch.

"Choose another room. Each is connected to two of the four cities; an entrance and an exit. However, there is a midway point for each room. That leads to a different room. And that room is determined by who you are. The fundamentals of your being. The inner workings of your mind."

"Are you coming with me?"

"Yes. I have a curiosity," the Judge says.

The Libero carries it into the next nearest building and turns the crank halfway. He doesn't know what's on his mind-- it just feels blank. When he steps through the doorway, however, he is greeted by smears of bright red patterns on blinding white. The patterns seem to change every time he blinks.

The Judge begins climbing further up the Libero's arm, and he adjusts to allow it higher. It fiddles with the string around the Libero's neck. He pays it no mind, watching the mesmerizing patterns as they shift.

"Let us try. One more room."

The Judge nips at the Libero's hair now, and he shoos it further down his arm to prevent this.

"If you're bored, you can go," he says. It shifts more than usual on his arm.

"Forgive me for my fidgeting. I dislike what I have seen."

His trance broken, the Libero steps back into the transport room and completes the rotation, ending up in Krainis again. The next half-rotation winds them up in a room with a strange atmosphere. It feels heavy, yet somehow bubbly, like boiling neon. The Libero feels a pressure that makes it somewhat difficult to breathe.

The appearance of the room is nothing special. It is a dark gray arrangement of walls and two pieces of furniture: a desk and a long, cushioned chair. The room unsettles him.

"Perhaps. Some time can be spent here," the Judge suggests.

The Libero silently refuses, stepping back into the transport room, where he can breathe. The connected city is Abreu, but the door to the room is directly across from a shop the Libero hadn't noticed before, marked with a little hanging sign with a lollipop on it. The Judge flies off into the city, relieving the Libero's arm of its weight.

Calem is quick to offer a greeting.

"Welcome, welcome! ... You don't look so good," he points out. "Want some sweets?"

The Libero accepts the distraction, although he is not injured nor wrought with any apparent afflictions.

"Feel better, okay? You can sit down, if you want."

He would much rather move on. His mission is so close to being done, but this zone is getting to him, burrowing into his argon and crawling incessantly. Still, he is not discouraged. It's a mission he must see through to the end.

He doesn't stop at the halfway point rooms anymore. He makes only full rotations, taking no moment to stop until he finally reaches new territory.

The spinning rooms have made the Libero dizzy, and he's come out into a park of sorts. He sits on a nearby bench, holding his head in place with both hands like it'll fall off if he doesn't. His eyes are wide open for once, as the dizziness takes him when they're closed.

"Are you okay?"

Seemingly endless inhabitants approach to ask this, immediately moving on once they've said what is required of them. The Libero doesn't look at a single one of them. He only stares forward as the world spins faster and faster around him.

"Am I okay?" he asks when there is nobody left to do so.

The xenon appears stable again and his vision doesn't swim quite so much. The Libero stands and quickly puts the preceding events behind him.

The Judge mentioned that there are four cities in zone 3. This appears to be the last stop. The Libero walks with a head full of static that slowly fades from his ears until he can hear again.

Welcome to Linde!

He stares blankly at the sign for several minutes, taking in no information. Eventually, he walks away from it, seeing as it serves no purpose to him.

On the corner of a street sits an inhabitant, huddled and saddened. The Libero approaches, but he has nothing to say.

"I lost the key to my house," he says. "I've looked everywhere, but I can't find it."

Give him the key.

"This one?"

The Libero pulls out the old copper key he'd won at the casino. It is of no use to him.

"Oh! I think that's it!"

The inhabitant jumps up to accept the key and immediately tries it on the door. The lock clicks and the door opens.

"Thank you so much! I can finally go home!"

The Libero wants to go home.

At a far end of town is an oddly decorated building. It is tall and wide, splattered with bright paint of all colors. The Libero enters without an invitation.

Inside is a proper house. There is a couch and a toy box, and a kitchen off to the side. There are three doors in the hallway.

Through one is a room littered with toys; video games, figurines, playing cards, stuffed animals. On the unmade bed is a spread of opened letters and empty envelopes. They are all addressed to the same person.

"Oh."

The tiny voice draws the Libero's attention. Calem is in the room for some reason.

"You're not here to buy things, are you..?" he asks. He seems a bit more shy than usual.

"What are you doing here?" the Libero asks.

"This is my house... I'm... I'm the guardian of zone 3. I'm Aubade."

The Libero does not react at first. A single shiver wracks Calem's body, but he bravely suppresses it.

The Libero holds out his hand. Calem looks curiously at it.

"Give me my key," the Libero commands.

"I don't have any key that belongs to you..."

"It's mine."

"No, see... it's mine... because... I have it..." Calem nervously insists. The color drains from his face as the Libero steps closer.

"Give me the key."

"It's mine..."

"What do you need it for?"

Calem has no answer. His now constant trembling doesn't go unnoticed. Frogs spawn out of nowhere and leap up Calem's body, combining onto his face to cover it in its entirety with a flat mask resembling the frogs themselves.

Battle time.

Calem does not attack. He poses no threat. He is just a little boy.

"It's... it's important to me," he protests, holding the green key tightly to his chest. "My mom gave it to me. Please don't take it."

The Libero cannot retaliate because he is not being attacked. A Libero's job is to receive, to be on the defense. The Judge had reinforced this, taking away his ability to attack directly.

But the Libero has learned some things along the way. His passes got progressively stronger, more threatening as he resisted the indulgences.

Double Contact is an illegal move, but there is no Judge present to penalize him. With his add-ons integrated, both strikes deal significant damage. But Calem is a zone guardian, after all, and he weathers the blows, failing to aggress even after being hit.

"I wanted to think... that maybe this wouldn't happen. That maybe it wasn't real." Calem pauses, his voice quivering like the melody in the Libero's ears, a quiet little woodwind that had been trying so hard to hide. "I wanted everything to be okay."

"Where is it, Calem? Is it in your pocket?"

Tears begin overflowing past the bottom of Calem's mask.

"I thought if I was nice enough to you, maybe you wouldn't be bad."

"Give me the key, Calem."

"I thought, if I could get you to like me, then maybe you wouldn't want to do this..."

The Libero attempts to grab Calem.

"Stop it! Stop! You can't have it!" he cries, squirming away from the Libero's grasp.

"I need it," the Libero says.

Calem strikes him now, a panicked scraping of short nails against the Libero's bare face. It doesn't hurt much.

Regardless, the Libero prepares to retaliate against the next attack, integrating Soprano and Baritone for the moment.

"I'm not gonna hit you just so you can hit me back!"

He sounds angry now-- a child having a tantrum. His opportunity to move passes him by and the Libero's add-ons resurface.

"The only way to progress is to break the rules it set for you. That's my only hope, too."

"How... do you know about the rules?"

"All of this was decided a long time ago. I was stupid to think I could make a difference! I thought that I knew these things so I could change them, but nothing changed! Not even a little bit!"

His expression cannot be interpreted through the mask, but his voice raises higher and louder and the song of his aura becomes brash and aggressive.

"You're evil!" he accuses with all the venom he is capable of. "You're evil and I hate you! I wish I was never nice to you!"

Of all things, evil? The Libero seeks to purify evil. These words cannot be tolerated, not even from a child.

He cries when the Libero hits him again.

"You don't need it! You don't need it!" he screams. The Libero pays him no mind.

He ceases hearing Calem's scolding and slander. Through it all, he keeps his attention open in case he surrenders the key. But he does not. Not until he no longer has a choice in the matter.

His movement stops with a heaving sob. His form collapses into an army of frogs, the clatter of the key hitting the floor lost amongst their sad choir. They linger, as if to protect the key, but they do not succeed in deterring the Libero from grabbing it.

When he looks up from stooping down, a soft halo just finishes twisting to life.

Add-on Tenor acquired.

The fourth key has been...

...

?

On the Libero's string hangs a purple key, an orange key, and now a green key. Where has the light blue key gone?


	5. The Room

The atmosphere in the foyer has changed. Not only are the instruments representing the zone guardians absent, but the bass can no longer be heard either. The only sound that remains is a new one: a harpsichord in a foreboding tempo.

As the Libero is missing a key, the Room will not open to him. The metallic echoes of the unfamiliar aura lead him back to the entrance to zone 0. The Libero's feet seem harder to move.

The zone looks exactly how he left it. It still sits nestled between soft waves of neon. It brings him some peace.

He walks forward, approaching the spot where he'd met the Judge. Just like before, a silent shadow falls over him as the Judge flies down. It lands on the xenon this time, foregoing the roof of the clock room.

"I lost the key you gave me," he says.

"It is not lost. I know where it is."

"Where is it, then?"

"I took it back."

The Libero can't comprehend this. Why would the Judge give him the key in the first place only to later revoke it? It had been helping him all this time. The Libero even considered the Judge to be something to the effect of his only friend.

"You had another friend. And you killed him."

"I need the key," the Libero says, urgent. "Why are you doing this?"

"I have given you three chances to prove yourself worthy of the trust I'd gifted you. Each, squandered. And yet I still let you have your freedom. There will not be a fourth."

The walls of the clock room unfold at the same time as the Judge's wings. Its feathers rotate until they are hidden beneath a metal exoskeleton. The Judge releases a deep, almost distorted hoot and the clocks behind it start ticking in unison, growing louder as the Judge grows in size, mechanically unwinding and expanding until its appearance barely resembles that of an owl.

In this form, the Judge's aura can be heard clearly, a harpsichord that had been willfully silent until its melody of rage reached the Libero's ears. What powers the Judge is not helium, not argon, not xenon, and not neon. The very sound of it a looming threat, its name is Radon.

Battle time.

The add-ons slowly emerge to frame the Libero. He feels sluggish and sick. He convinces himself that it is because of Radon's clocks that he is disoriented, and with a deep breath, he gathers his focus.

The Libero prepares a Rolling Receive, and the add-ons use a trinity of skills on him: Ebb & Flow, Melt & Grow, and Burst & Glow. Radon strikes the Libero twelve times in quick succession, getting weaker each time due to Soprano and occasionally dealing no damage whatsoever due to Tenor. The Libero is tremendously empowered, shaking with adrenaline. It's hard to breathe.

His eyes dart between the clocks behind Radon and he integrates the add-ons before its next move. All twelve of Radon's strikes are bumped to its clocks. Two are destroyed, six are well on their way.

It doesn't get any easier to breathe. It feels like impurities have infiltrated the Libero's body.

"There is no such thing as "pure"," Radon claims.

Ten strikes this time, and three clocks are eliminated. Only six remain, and four of them are heavily damaged already.

"Take a moment. Look upon your reflection in the **water**."

"The... what?"

"See the world for what it is, Libero. Look down and see the blood on your hands."

Another volley, and only two clocks remain. Radon itself remains woefully untouched, the Libero completely focused on first eliminating its advantages.

"The **ground** you have walked on, desolate. The **air** you breathe, coming thin and short. Your **flesh** , corrupted."

The Libero struggles to understand the static lacing Radon's voice. Suspicious how clear the rest of its speech is.

"Are you... trying to confuse me?" he asks. "What is the point?"

"I am trying to open your eyes, you bumbling idiot."

Its words seem so cruel now. Does it not understand what the Libero is trying to do? Does it not understand that all of this would have been over by now, had it not stolen the key?

The clocks are all destroyed, sans the one in the Libero's pocket, and the one at Radon's core. The ticking of a heart, the hum of machinery. Gears turn where blood does not flow. The Libero perceives two images atop one another, and he doesn't know which is real.

The next time the Libero wills his add-ons to integrate, Soprano does not obey. With a warbled hoot, a third of the halo snaps off and the remaining crescent glows gently.

"Can you see it?" it asks of him.

**A woman stands before him.**

"Not anymore," he answers.

The crescent, under Radon's control, unleashes a skill called Deep Crater. It saws relentlessly into the Libero's arms, but his retaliation destroys the corrupted add-on in seconds. The damage is soon mitigated and reversed.

It isn't long before Baritone stops responding to his commands as well. It floats towards Radon, hanging high above its head as its hollow ring fills out into a perfect circle.

"Can you say it?" it asks of him.

**A man awaits an apology.**

"Not anymore," he answers.

Radon commands the sphere to use Advanced Decomposition. The temperature in the zone rises exponentially, the plants at the Libero's feet quickly burning and dying. One retaliation cools his head.

Tenor, having spent so little time with the Libero, held on for a surprising stretch of turns. However, it, too, succumbs to Radon's judgement, and its smooth edges warp and bend into the shape of a star.

"Can you hear it?" it asks of him.

**A child sobs into his hands.**

"Not anymore," he answers.

The Greatest Gift of All is a fascinating skill, one that the Libero cannot perceive with anything but his sense of touch.

**Three sets of arms wrap tightly around him.**

It doesn't hurt, but the contact prompts a retaliation regardless. Free of distractions, only the Libero and Radon remain. His head should be clearer now, but the fog within only grows thicker.

Mindless, the Libero volleys with Radon.

**"Open your eyes."**

Static assaults his ears again. He wills himself to stop hearing it.

**"This is not the way."**

Radon's machinery begins to fail it, gears scraping unpleasantly against surfaces they were never intended to reach. The metronome in its chest seems to tick slower, swinging heavily from one side to the other.

**"You need help."**

The Libero parses the distorted static.

"I don't."

When the clock finally stops, its hand lies perfectly in the middle of the metronome. From the corpse of his friend, the first key is recovered once more.

Long overdue, the retaliate command that the Judge gave him dissipates, and the assault command returns to him.

The foyer is dead quiet. The Room accepts his keys, and in it are seven mirrors, the imagery reflected in them impure and corrupt.

Sloth. Satisfaction. Stagnation. A lack of drive to do better. It disgusts the Libero, and he attacks the distorted reflection. Despite its retaliations, the mirror shatters in the end. The Libero's drive has been purified.

Lust. A shameful feeling, considered the height of impurity by many. A distraction in the form of argon, sights he should be able to tear his eyes away from. He assaults the languid image, reducing it to broken shards of glass. The Libero's focus has been purified.

Greed. The nagging feeling that nothing is good enough, and that nothing should be surrendered. The Libero has no use for worldly attachments, so what is such a sin doing, impersonating him? Clear turns to white, another mirror broken. The Libero's resolve has been purified.

Envy. It's only natural to see a life better than your own and long for such luxuries. He has witnessed man, woman, and child-- a family, however split apart-- and he has felt this sin at its strongest. It's time to let go. The Libero's regret has been purified.

Gluttony. Such treats had been dangled before him during his mission, and he had indulged every time. No more. The reflection is destroyed, washing clean the memory of his first meeting with the Judge. The Libero's restraint has been purified.

Wrath. Anger, a hideous emotion. An undeniable red, an abrasive volume, a very real craving for violence. What else has been moving him this entire time? His bones are starting to peek out through bloodied knuckles. The Libero's reason has been purified.

Pride. It's what has convinced the Libero this entire time, unwavering, that he could do no wrong, not as long as it was for the sake of his mission. A mission that ends just as the glass falls. The Libero's spirit has been purified.

Cut off from past, present, and future, the Libero stands motionless and pale. The only color present is the dripping red seeping through his gloves. Even that turns to white.

Perspective is everything. No two people see things the same way. A human man, a fiendish jaguar. A wise owl, a radioactive mechanical nightmare. A graceful butterfly, a mother. A cowardly ferret, a father. A darling tadpole, a son.

When one sets out to purge all impurities, one must be aware that if everything is deemed impure, there will be nothing left when the deed is done. The silence of the white surrounds the Libero. Never again will he hear a sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Ending Music - I Write the Songs by Barry Manilow](https://youtu.be/6U6JlAsYv0Y)  
> 
> 
> Please listen warmly while you digest what you've read.
> 
> ++++++
> 
> A note about the character tags: Calem and Aubade are indeed the same person, but I tagged them separately to avoid spoilers. I felt it necessary to tag Aubade as an obvious zone guardian so people wouldn't accidentally piece together that Calem is the third guardian just from seeing that only two were tagged. Future works featuring this character will use the tag "Calem | Aubade (Fracture)".
> 
> Similarly, future works featuring the Judge will use the tag "The Judge | Radon (Fracture)".
> 
> **Additionally, all questions and curiosities regarding Fracture can be directed to[this tumblr.](https://fractureverse.tumblr.com/)**


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